[SRP] At Death's Door

[Andy]

Ambrose was getting more irritated with the lout called Lantis the longer they interacted, but he conceded the point. Especially concerning was the fact that she'd apparently had another vision, in regards to Lantis this time. He said nothing as Anka went to her room to sleep. The mercenary went to his own room without another word to either Lantis or Ingrid. There was a tub of water there, with a stand for soap and a brush.

Good. It's about time for that, anyway. He'd arranged the bath when he'd arrived and planned on telling them to cancel it when he'd been under the impression that Anka did not have her own room. Since she did, and the tub was already here, he might as well.

The mercenary stripped down, bathed, washed his clothes and hung them across what sparse furniture he could to dry, and then took out a bottle of oil and a bit of steel wool and began to scrub his armor clean. When he was done with that, he took out a whetstone and cloth, whetting the edge first for sharpness and then oiling the blade to keep it from rusting. He sheathed the sword when he was done, then repeated the treatment on his dagger. At last, he was satisfied. It was well into the night, and he was tired. He stretched out on the bed, falling asleep nearly instantaneously.

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In the morning, Ambrose awoke, dressed in clothes that were still cold though no longer damp, and then donned his armor and strapped on his sword. Lastly he swirled his cloak on, fastening it and hiding the knot under the gorget of his armor.

He emerged from his room in the morning and ordered a spot of breakfast.